« Why are you crying thus;" said I, “ While others laugh and shout with joy?"? She kissed me--and, with such a sigh! She called me her poor ORPHAN BOY. « What is an Orphan Boy?" I cried, As in her face I look'd and smil'd; My mother through her tears replied, “You'll know too soon, ill fated child !” And now they've tolled my mother's knell, And I'm no more a parent's joy, O lady,—I have learnt too well What 'tis to be an ORPHAN BOY. Oh! were I by your bounty fed ! Nay, gentle lady, do not chide,Trust me I mean to earn my bread; The sailor's Orphan Boy has pride. Lady, you weep!-Ha?-this to me? You'll give me clothing, food, employ?--Look down, dear parents ! look, and see Your happy, happy ORPHAN BOY. THE CHILD OF SORROW'S TALE. Deny, but do not taunt a maid Who never scorn, with scorn repays; Proud man, though now I ask your aid, Mine once, alas! were happier days. But sorrow mark'd me for her own Before I told my twentieth yearYet when my friends began to frown, I but reproach'd tl em with--A TEAR. I ne'er could frame the harsh reply, The look unkind by feeling fear'd, E'en when I inet disdain's cold eye, E'en when I cruel language heard. I've seen my friend, my earliest friend, Refuse my tale of woe to hear; Yet still unwilling to offend, All my remembrance was--A TEAR. And I have known the slanderer's tongue My fame with vile dishonour taint, Yet on my lips, no curses hung, Though mournful, mild was my complaint. And I was forc'd by cruel power To lcave the scenes I held most dear; 0! 'twas indeed a trying hour! Yet all my language was—A TEAR. And I bave known the youth I lov'd Retract the vows he swore to me, Behold my pallid cheek unmov’d, And smiling boast that he was free! Yet I was calm—and (hour of dread!) I saw him woo a maid more dearBut I was mute, I only shed No--no ;-I COULD not shed a—TEAR. Ah! full was then my cup of grief, Friends, fortune, lover, fame, all lostA beggar now, I ask relief, A small, a trifling, boon at most. Still can you chide me from your door? Ah, no! your looks compassion wearSo large a gist!-Oh! WORDS were poor I thank, I bless you in— A TEAR THE RING. The sea-gull wheel'd in circles low, And, screaming, skimm’d the wintry tide; The evening blast began to blow, Up the steep clift's rifted side. In broken foam, the white surge drove, And back recoil'd, with rushing sound; When on the precipice above, With haggard eyes, and locks unbound, Stood MARY_once the fairest maid And chastest wife on Cornwall's shore, Till lost her spouse—herself betray'd, And fair, and virtuous, now no more ! Down on the crumbling rock she kneelid, O'er which the waving samphire grew; And, while her aching bosom swellid, Her Ring she from her finger drew. “O! golden pledge of early love! • Thou promise of connubial bliss ! “ Upbraid me not !”-she cried—"nor prove * How ill this soul sustains distress. 66 “ Whene'er thy glittering form I view, My heart reproaches me and cries“ Could'st thou forget a spouse so true, “ Who first conferr'd this hallow'd prize ? s« And ere soft April's dewy hand “ Had twice bestrew'd with flow'rs his grave: « Submit thee to seduction's bland " The dupe of vice, and passion's slave! *** Accurst by heav'n, and woman kind, “ For ever be that traitor vite, * Who turn'd from innocence my mind, “ And dar'd my easy faith beguile! « O! golden pledge of happier times ! “ Thou promise sweet of wedded bliss "No more reproach me with my crimes, “ Nor aggravate my soul's distress ! "Wow dear, belov'd, dishonour'd pledge! Tay thee thns on this rude stone, • That gazers p'er this fearful ridge, Might learn, froin thee, that I am gone ! 60 5. Here witness thou how MARY fell, “ To expiate her foul disgrace'; « And soon to her Betrayer tell “ The tale that time shall ne'er efface !', She clasp'd her hands—she rais'd her eyes; In bitterest anguish of despair ;Wild was the ocean--dark the skies! No hope remain'd-no help was near! Down-down she plung'd--the dashing wave Receiv'd her on its murinuring breast; And, rolling back, the gulphy grave Compos'd her struggling heart to rest ! |